


'Cause My Family (Don't Seem So Familiar)

by coffeehousehaunt



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Awkwardness, F/F, Interspecies Awkwardness, Kara Danvers is a ball of sunshine, Missing Scene, Sara Lance is an actual human disaster, supercanary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeehousehaunt/pseuds/coffeehousehaunt
Summary: What happened when Sara Lance asked Kara Danvers if she wanted to get drinks sometime. OR:What the fuck, Andrew Kreisberg. What did you think would actually happen. Really.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Gas Panic!" By Oasis.

Kara Zor-El—Danvers; Kara _Danvers_ —would not be the first “straight” girl Sara has helped have an epiphany.   
  
So when Kara responds to her invite for drinks with “I think you want to meet my sister”, Sara resists the urge to roll her eyes (although, it’s Kara, so she doesn’t _have_ to very hard), smiles, and says “Sure”.   
  
Worst comes to worst, Kara has a hot sister. Right?   
  
//  
  
Well, that went poorly.   
  
It could’ve gone _worse_ , but still—  
  
Sara knew Alex probably wasn’t her cup of tea when Kara admitted she’d just come out. Maybe she’s getting old, but she’s a little bit done breaking in newbies (which is absolutely a different thing than giving them that “Oh” moment—pun fully intended).   
  
She really should’ve said no then and there, but Kara doesn’t stop gushing about her sister, she clearly loves her to pieces, and Sara doesn’t want to disappoint her (which should’ve been a warning sign, really).   
  
They get to Earth 38, and it’s kind of a whirlwind. Sara mostly hides in Kara’s apartment--it’s a little different, being here, out of her own proper universe, her own _time_ , with no particular mission, just... tagging along.   
  
Sara hasn’t 'tagged along' since junior high.   
  
Sara’s first impression of Alex is draped over Maggie Sawyer. It’s very cute and very baby-gay and _very_ not Sara’s scene. She doesn’t get a chance to back out (and she can’t make herself pipe the fuck up and leave, for some goddamn reason. And is the air _always_ this thick in this dimension? She may be allergic) before they’re at a door, saying a passphrase, and piling into the diviest bar Sara’s been in in a while.   
  
Frankly, though, she’s taken up drinking alone in her quarters on the Waverider. That’s probably not much better. But there’s fewer people and less issues with assassins. Generally.   
  
Sara finds herself scanning the exits with more than a cursory glance; taking in the surprising lack of leather and masks gathered around the table to welcome Kara back home, these smooth faces without scars—and is that a cardigan?   
  
She’s only used to seeing those on Felicity.   
  
She’s never unmasked like this, never out in the open—she walks around the Waverider in her workout gear, in sweats, in her costume, she’s been a vigilante in street clothes, she’s been in “normal” clothes with her family, but she’s never been in a situation that’s so clearly muddied the line between “normals” and her world. She’s never been so perfectly exposed, posed between the two of them.   
  
No one would mistake the patrons here for normal, but they’re here in street clothes, drowning their sorrows instead of plotting world domination (probably); there’s something blue-collar about this whole scene, so very removed from her world of rich playboys with too much time on their hands, living out their weird power fantasies left over from childhood, or the “exceptional” children of “exceptional” (read: rich and well-connected) people becoming assassins. Leather is expensive. This tequila is not.   
  
And here they are, around this table, leaning on each other (Maggie sneaking glances at Alex, Alex not even trying to hide the fact that she’s staring, holding hands under the table), smiling, _laughing_. Dressed like they just came from a day at the office—and some of them probably did.   
  
Sara doesn’t feel like she has anything to add, here. Still, Kara puts an arm around her shoulders (pink fuzzy sweater with corded steel underneath it), introduces her, and Sara smiles uneasily when they all lift their drinks and grin at her, like she’s a normal person.   
  
The one in the cardigan—Winn—sidles over to ask her about transdimensional travel and _what’s it like_ with words that Sara would normally deflect to Felicity or Cisco or anyone but her, but none of them are here, and she can’t seem to make her brain kick into gear. She looks at Kara and Kara smiles reassuringly, and for some reason, Sara feels herself relax.   
  
“Winn.” Kara says softly, and Winn stops, then realizes what he’s saying is going right over her head, and looks apologetic.   
  
“It’s fine,” Sara says, “Normally I’d be down to talk, but I’m still a little disoriented from the trip.” She wouldn’t, but he looks satisfied and slides over to Kara’s other side to keep asking Kara questions. Sara focuses on keeping her mouth busy drinking and looks around the table.   
  
Alex only has eyes for Maggie, and Maggie gives Sara a look like she’s sizing her up. Sara has to restrain the urge to roll her eyes—although, a bar brawl might be a nice distraction right now.   
  
_Don’t worry, sister. Not my thing._   
  
The alien boy—Daxamite, like Kryptonian but not as cool, from the sound of it—is cute in a frat-boy kinda way, with a shine Sara recognizes all too well: Bad boy in rehab.   
  
Well. Heavy air quotes around “bad”. She’s _seen_ bad, and this one makes Ollie’s dour asshattery seem refreshing.   
  
Still. She considers sidling over to him—but it’s obvious within the first ten seconds that he’s only got eyes for Kara, and it’s obvious that Kara is trying to give him a try when it’s _painfully_ obvious that most of her has already decided he’s too pedestrian.   
  
She’d put money down that she could fix Mon-El’s problem, but somehow, she doesn’t think Kara would approve of her seducing Mon-El, or Mon-El sneaking off with Sara, and she doesn’t want to be the cause of disappointment in those blue eyes, that slight furrow in her brow.   
  
Honestly—is she losing her edge?   
  
Regardless, Sara behaves herself. She even stays for a few rounds, but it’s clear that these people are a _family_ , and they seem… healthy. And normal. Despite literally being surrounded by aliens. It’s the most loving, vanilla thing she’s seen in years.   
  
Sara might have a family, but she’s none of those things.   
  
Honestly, she’s more comfortable around assassins and convicts than she is law-abiding aliens.   
  
Sara excuses herself once the humans start looking flushed and happy, and gets a resounding round of, “Come back sometime!”   
  
Kara slips off to see her out. “Hey.” It’s pretty clear from her face she wants Sara to stay.   
  
It’s also pretty clear that Sara doesn’t belong here.   
  
“Your sister looks happy.” She does, and it makes Sara feel better—less chance for her to wreck things.   
  
Kara shifts awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry—I didn’t know they’d patched things up.”   
  
“No—no, it’s okay. They’re cute. I just… should probably be getting back.”   
  
“Okay.” Kara twists her hands, looking like she wants to continue. Sara waits awkwardly, not sure when she should call it. “Um, you—you heard what they said, though. You’re welcome back whenever.”   
  
“Yeah. Of course, yeah. Thank you.” She’s not sure what the hell Kara or the rest of them see in her, but that won’t be a problem for much longer. “Hey—you have my number, right? That tracker Cisco rigged up?” Kara nods quickly. “Give me a call if you need anything.”   
  
Kara nods—and then wraps Sara in a bone-crushing hug that’s a little jarring packaged up in that cute fuzzy sweater. “It was really good to meet you.” She’s grinning when she pulls back, pushing up her glasses on her face. “You’re awesome.”   
  
Sara can’t help but grin back. “So are you.”   
  
She lets out a sigh as she leaves the bar.   
  
Kara won’t _actually_ call her again, and that’s fine, just fine. She doesn’t belong there anyways. She shoves down the niggling feeling in her guts at the thought that she probably won’t get to work with her again. Transdimensional travel is experimental, unpredictable, and costly.   
  
Honestly. What has she turned into? 


End file.
